


trust was the lifeline and the noose

by xSheepie



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23387095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSheepie/pseuds/xSheepie
Summary: The Cody's are close in a fucked up way. It's obvious what happens behind closed doors. J is a Cody. He only had one thing Pope wanted. Julia's memory. Cody's trade secrets in a house without secrets.UPDATED: 12/13/20
Relationships: Andrew 'Pope' Cody/Joshua 'J' Cody
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	trust was the lifeline and the noose

No one who'd met J could deny him being a Cody. He was a Cody in every line of his being, every action, every thought. Smurf had given him brains, his uncles the ability to hold a gun steady, his mother a penchant for risky business. He didn't know much about his family before the day his mother died. He had vague memories from his childhood- although he sometimes thought he'd fabricated the majority from a box of pictures of babies and teenage boys and a beautiful woman about forty under his mothers bed. 

He had a phone number of someone he thought was his father and his mothers teary stories when she was high and her ravings when she was sober. He had derisive remarks from law enforcement who sometimes came by the apartment and sometimes stopped them in the street. He had his mothers old friends who would bring the Cody's up when the two of them couldn't come up with money or drugs or a babysitter. 

It was no wonder he found himself back in Smurf's reach the moment his mother passed away. His mother was weak in a lot of important ways. The only bit of backbone she showed was in refusing to go begging to be let back into Smurfs kingdom. Smurf wasn’t weak in those ways. Smurf had always wanted a grandson though - she liked having someone young and impressionable in the house. Not that J needed much molding. All he needed was a… mothers touch so to speak. Which Smurf was happy to apply liberally. 

J went from a family of two to a family of six in twenty seven nauseating hours. There were suddenly to many people to keep an eye on, all of them volatile in ways J couldn't predict. He felt like an trespasser at a zoo, passing through their carefully maintained cages, fed trice daily by their loving caretaker dressed in a silk bathrobe and $300 sunglasses. 

J’s uncles didn’t like him. They stopped talking when he was around, got tense. J didn’t know what to do with himself at her house. His uncles didn’t like it anymore when he was gone. Sometimes he felt like he was being followed. Sometimes he saw Darens’ green jeep idling around the corner or one of Popes’ black cars parked near the school. He didn’t know at first whether it was at their own discretion or Smurf had put them on J Watch but it made his skin crawl. 

Before he knew about the thieving J knew about the way Smurf was with her boys. J was starting to think it was intentional on Smurf’s part. J had pictures of Smurf floating around in his head; kissing Craig on the mouth in the kitchen, of Derans head in her lap in the middle of the night, her hand soft in his hair, him with his eyes sometimes open and teary and sometimes scrunched closed, mouth a tight line, of Pope curled next to her under the duvet on her bed, syrupy slow movements under the cover, the sliver of light from the hallway shining through the cracked door, J’s head casting a shadow stretching to the foot of the bed. He’d moved past quickly, head down but he knew Smurf had seen him. He’d seen the glint of her eyes, shiny and black like two beetles in the dark oval of her face.

It went on like that, a movie about sin and vice. He knew about the heists now. Found money and guns and drugs everywhere around the house and twice one of the boys had been brought home bloody and sweaty and wild eyed from pain. J would watch them be stitched up on the dining room table, the entire room smelling like fresh baked apple pie. 

It was sometime between when Deran nearly ran him over for kicks and Pope smiled at Nikki he knew he had to do something. He was tired of standing on the outside of the family - wasn’t sure they would let him for much longer before they forced him to make a choice. Every moment he stood on the edge of the tank he was in danger. Surely it would be safer to jump into shark infested water with a clear head then have to be pushed in and consumed. 

It was Pope he finally decided to approach: the guard dog of the family, Smurf’s rabid son, the one who had to be medicated to avoid cutting off his own hand just to see what would happen.

J set some bait and waited. Finding Pope in his room later that day was nerve racking but not surprising. Craig and Daren were bar hopping with some friends, flushed with cash Smurf had divvied up, Baz was home with Cath and Smurf was out of town - the house was theirs as it were. 

Pope stood at J’s bed, the box of pictures he’d brought from his apartment upended on the blankets Smurf had straightened that morning before she’d left. Pope had discarded some, neatly putting them back in the box but now he held one up for closer inspection.

“Hey Pope.” J didn’t want to startle him. He shut the door quietly and slung his backpack down by his feet. 

“Hey there J.” Pope looked up. “Where’d you get these?”

“My mom kept them.”

“Julia… kept these.” J wasn’t sure if it was a question or not so he stayed quiet. The picture fluttered down to the bed and Pope nailed him to the spot with a curious look. "J, I swear, sometimes I wonder where we'd be without you.”

“She wouldn’t have stayed.” J said.

“You don’t know anything. She got pregnant. You messed it all up." Pope didn't sound angry really. If anything he seemed melancholy about it all. “Julia left because she wanted to protect you."

“She left because Smurf made her.”

“Shut up. You don't know anything.”

“I know what she told me. When she was high she'd talk about you sometimes. And I listened." J tried to stay calm. Pope wouldn't kill him - Smurf hadn't asked him to. He just needed to not rile him up. J was good at taking punches. Let Pope blow off steam and lock in his position in Smurf's house.

"She talked about us?" Pope took a step closer.

“You mainly.”

“What…” Pope wetted his bottom lip, as if suddenly his mouth had gone dry. “What did she say?”

“Said no one cared about her like you did. Said only one person hurt her when you were at her side.” The truth was Julia has said a lot of things about her family, none of them so charitable as an admission of love. Sometimes when the two of them were side by side on the mattress in the bedroom J would wake up to her crying softly and the name on her lips when he shook her out of it would be  _ Andrew.  _

Pope, he knew, was hungry for redemption. One time when Julia was coming off some shit and had sweated through her thin pajamas J had asked about his father. Something to distract Julia from the shivers that were racking her skinny frame and also because J always wondered about his father when Julia was like this. Julia’s voice was horse from being sick but she told J the story of Pope beating the shit out of a guy from school he found in her bed. Pope had stood there, next to the guy wheezing on the carpet, looking at Julia, with her top undone and had said she was the reason he had a hole in his heart when he was born. J used to think that faceless man could have been his father - killed by his mothers deranged twin.

Pope turned away abruptly, picking up another picture. This one was of three teenagers: the twins with Baz between them, Julia and Baz laughing and Pope scowling off to the side.

“You know Baz is only part of this family because Julia begged Smurf. Said we couldn’t leave him with that asshole father of his. Showed up once with a broken arm and welts all over his legs and ass and poor Julia’s heart broke.”

"I know."

“Know a lot, do you J?” Pope lay the photo back in the box gently. "Bet you didn’t know he fucked her."

J didn't say anything.

"He was supposed to be our brother and he fucked her. I mean how fucked up is that?"

It  _ was  _ fucked up, J thought. The I word no one wanted to say out loud but came to J’s mind every time Smurf was in the room with Deran or Pope or Craig. It was fucked up, but not really surprising. They were conditioned for this, taught there was no one they could trust but each other. Looking outside of the family for a partner had consequences. Loose lipped girlfriends, nosy cops, prison time, people who would use them for their money, their secrets, their name.

Pope walked over to the window, staring out into the yard. His hands were open, relaxed at his sides. He felt dangerous though, restless. He was the violent one. Sure Craig was big and Daren was quick and scrappy but Pope was methodical. Vicious in his follow through. He made a plan and stuck with it. J admired the quality, saw it in himself. Pope was the key to the family. Dearest to Smurf for his blind obedience. Dog-like. And Smurf thought letting go of the leash was funny. J was losing his nerve. All he wanted to do now was blurt out, "was he my father?" and push and push until someone told him the truth. The words burned in his throat. He stuck to his plan. Pushing the words out felt like he was breaking a tension bubble.

"Do you want to fuck me?" The question hung in the air. It's what J came in here for after all. 

"Don't be sick." Pope snarled. His hands clenched at his sides but he didn’t turn around. J had weighted the consequences. Either he did and J had his leverage or he didn't. J knew it was weighted in his favor, with who he was and what Pope craved. And if Pope left the room right now, and never touched him like that, J knew he wouldn't tell anyone. It wouldn't look good for someone like Pope to accuse normal, wet behind the ears J of coming on to him.

J backed up a step towards the door. Put his hand on the handle. If he got kicked out of the family, J was almost certain they'd kill him. Pope didn't really trust him and he knew way to much. In this family trust was all they had.

Pope moved suddenly, three quick steps, and grabbed his forearm. "Wait."

J froze. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise in anticipation.

"Get on the bed." Pope let him go. "If you mean it. Get on the bed."

J wanted to smile but didn't. Instead he stripped off his shirt and jeans and sat on the edge of the bed. He was soft between his legs.

Pope came closer to him. "Turn over J."

J couldn't help himself. "Do you want to call me Julia?"

Pope's eyes flashed. "Turn over."

J didn't want to take his eyes off Pope who hadn't taken anything off yet but he also didn't want to blow this. J’s second reason for doing this was a private kind of research. He wanted to know how Pope fucked. If he would hold him down or keep his hands to himself, if he would talk or stay characteristically quiet. If he would try to kiss him or if that was where he drew the line on fucked up. J turned stomach down on the bed, head turned to the side. He couldn't see Pope behind him, but felt him staring. Over the last couple months J had gotten used to being looked at. Smurf and Pope had that same unnerving, heavy stare. J's breath turned ragged and he felt saliva pooling in his mouth.

Why isn't he doing anything? J thought. His legs were sticking awkwardly off the bed, toes unable to reach the floor. He didn't like that. J got his arms under him and started to push himself up. Pope's hand stopped him. “What are you waiting for?”

"Why are you doing this, J?"

"I..." J swallowed and tried again. "I want you."

"No, you don't."

It felt like Pope could see straight through him. J got closer to the truth. “I want to be part of this family. My mom's stories... this is the best way to do it. We share this secret, me and you. Show you that you can trust me to keep my mouth shut. And that I'm here for you."

J heard the slither of leather slipping out of belt loops.

"Are you scared of me, J?" Pope's voice odd. Curious in a manic way. Off-The-Meds Pope Daren had whispered at J once.

Yes, J thought. Every nerve seemed to be alive and waiting for... for something. He wondered if Pope was on something or if this is just what he was like - he’d never seen him take anything, not pills or the blow Craig did or even weed. He wondered what Pope was like when he was a kid and what he was like when he was Andrew and what he was like in prison. J was scared of what he didn't know. He didn't know a lot about Pope.

When Pope touched him, J flinched hard. He lay his dry hand flat against J's back.

"They all are. She was." All of a sudden J was thankful for the couple of fingers he'd shoved in there a couple hours ago. He could still feel the slippery feeling of lube when he clenched unconsciously. "You should be."

J felt Pope loom behind him and bit through the skin on his lip when Pope entered him.

It was on the wrong side of painful. Red hot nerves alight and his whole body tense, expecting pain, helping to create it. It was stupid, he knew he should relax, that it would make it so much easier. But J didn't have that much control over his body. J tried to ignore his own body as much as he could and focus on Pope. 

He didn’t learn much that first time. Pope was quiet behind him and machine-like steady. He didn’t move his hands around much either, digging his fingers into J’s hip and thigh briefly before remembering himself and changing his grip to something softer. J’s eyes kept drifting to the pictures beside him, a young Pope and Julia, his age, grinning wildly, Pope holding Deran in the pool, Pope with his arm looped around Baz’s shoulders, his arm in a white plaster cast.

It snuck up on J, sometime when it started feeling good and not like he was being cracked open, vulnerable and in pain. J’d taken it up the ass once before but it made him feel unsafe - he had been of course, even though Julia had said she was just around the corner and that Tommy was just going to keep him company for a little until she could collect his money - and that was a feeling he avoid at all cost. J finished before Pope did, his eyes screwed shut, a sob pulled from somewhere deep within him. 

Pope pulled away from J, just standing there, eyes on J. J got his hands under him and pushed himself back a few inches. His feet hit the floor and he leveraged himself off the bed, counted to five and turned to face Pope. Color was brushed along the tops of his cheeks, masking freckles in dusty rose. It was the only sign of excursion on his part. 

Pope looked over him slowly, saw the red nail indents in J's palms and his still white knuckles. The blood of his lip, which had smeared on the white duvet when J had crushed it against his face to keep himself silent. His cock, soft between his legs. 

"Turn around." 

J did as he was bid. Staring at the wet patch where he'd been laying, all the evidence he needed to how much he belonged here. Pope reached out and brushed a hand along his flank, feather soft on a line of finger shaped bruises, left on accident. 

"You should go take a shower." Pope’s voice was soft.

“I'm kinda tired actually.” J nervously held his hands in front of his crotch, unsure if he could look Pope in the eye. His eyes wandered down, noted with muted interest Pope hadn’t finished. 

“Don't be disgusting J. You stink.”

Pope left the room, and down the hall the bathroom door clicked shut. J exhaled through his nose slowly and sunk down onto his bed. He swept the rest of the pictures into the box and smiled. He was in.


End file.
